Warmistress of Marr
The Marr Open-Air Training Grounds
Marr Family Estate, Jutrand
The Soldiers of House Marr stood in lines, all of them at crisp attention. Troopers wearing helmets, officers standing at the lead in their distinctive armor. Each of them looking up at the raised platform ahead of them. Another day for drills, another day for preparedness. Such was the way of House Marr. Never falter, never relent, and always strive for perfection. So it was that one of the oldest scions of the House stood above them, looking them over with a stern glint in her eye. Her arms were crossed behind her back, her legs poised with a practiced and dominant stance. Her red-orange eyes practically glowed with focus, each heartbeat stretching for minutes in the minds of those present.
Her black-red armor glinted in the sunlight above as her lightsaber shifted on her hip. She was the Warmistress of House Marr, the monstrous warrior that served her family with that stony gaze that made enemies crumble at her feet. To her soldiers, she was almost like a mother, guided them, trained them, honed them, but understood them. She had fought and served as a trooper, working her way up the ranks until she'd been given her title as an achievment rather than a matter of fact. She knew the life of a grunt, of a soldier, and that was why their eyes shone behind those helmets when she spoke.
"Tonight is your last drill," She shouted, her gaze flicking left and right, "Tonight, you have the opportunity to prove yourselves. Are you the spoiled brats that I took in at the beginning of your training? Or are you men and women of House Marr?" She cocked a faint smile and there was some faint movement among the soldiers, a bit of chuckling.
Her eyes firmed up, "TROOPERS!"
"HUP!"
"DOES MARR STAND READY?"
"TILL THE GALAXY BREAKS!"
"DOES MARR STAND PROUD?"
"TILL NOT A SOUL REMAINS."
"DOES MARR STAND AS ONE?"
"NO CRUTCH NOR LIMP, BUT THE SHOULDER NEXT TO ME!"
She broke into a smile, "Well said," She offered whistfully, snapping a crisp salute before lowering her hand. "You are dismissed until the end of day at which point our drill will begin."
There was a pause, none of them left. She frowned only for one of the men to step forward, striking his chest with an armored fist. "On behalf of this batallion, Warmistress. Thank you for being the mother we never had!"
"THANK YOU MA'AM!" Came the resounding call behind him.
She sighed and shook her head, her expression remaining resolute, "Fifteen for disobeying a dismissal, idiots."
"YES MA'AM!" They bellowed and all dropped to begin fifteen minutes of pushups in armor.
A small smile trailed on her face as their noses were in the dirt. Fools. Her beloved fools. She didn't stand there and watch them work, they'd been dismissed. But they knew better than to stop until the alotted time was up. In her case, she made her way down the steps and back towards the main house, passing through the doors at a steady clip. Even in the halls of their family she had to maintain a certain presence, her stern gaze and thin expression met the face of any sub-member of the house that she came across. There were few who saw her heart, only her siblings, not even her parents. Her brother and sisters, whom she'd raised in the place of parents who cared nothing for them except as tools and chips to bargain with.
She strode down the hall, her heels clicking with each step, before she came to a stop at the door leading to the observation patio overlooking the training fields. Its where she found a bit of peace and quiet, nobody went there, really, except during the wargames. Though one could stand there and watch her train the men on a daily basis. She stepped up to the door and waved her hand over the panel, the door opening and stepped inside, unaware someone was waiting for her.
Sophia of House Marr
Marr Family Estate, Jutrand
The Soldiers of House Marr stood in lines, all of them at crisp attention. Troopers wearing helmets, officers standing at the lead in their distinctive armor. Each of them looking up at the raised platform ahead of them. Another day for drills, another day for preparedness. Such was the way of House Marr. Never falter, never relent, and always strive for perfection. So it was that one of the oldest scions of the House stood above them, looking them over with a stern glint in her eye. Her arms were crossed behind her back, her legs poised with a practiced and dominant stance. Her red-orange eyes practically glowed with focus, each heartbeat stretching for minutes in the minds of those present.
Her black-red armor glinted in the sunlight above as her lightsaber shifted on her hip. She was the Warmistress of House Marr, the monstrous warrior that served her family with that stony gaze that made enemies crumble at her feet. To her soldiers, she was almost like a mother, guided them, trained them, honed them, but understood them. She had fought and served as a trooper, working her way up the ranks until she'd been given her title as an achievment rather than a matter of fact. She knew the life of a grunt, of a soldier, and that was why their eyes shone behind those helmets when she spoke.
"Tonight is your last drill," She shouted, her gaze flicking left and right, "Tonight, you have the opportunity to prove yourselves. Are you the spoiled brats that I took in at the beginning of your training? Or are you men and women of House Marr?" She cocked a faint smile and there was some faint movement among the soldiers, a bit of chuckling.
Her eyes firmed up, "TROOPERS!"
"HUP!"
"DOES MARR STAND READY?"
"TILL THE GALAXY BREAKS!"
"DOES MARR STAND PROUD?"
"TILL NOT A SOUL REMAINS."
"DOES MARR STAND AS ONE?"
"NO CRUTCH NOR LIMP, BUT THE SHOULDER NEXT TO ME!"
She broke into a smile, "Well said," She offered whistfully, snapping a crisp salute before lowering her hand. "You are dismissed until the end of day at which point our drill will begin."
There was a pause, none of them left. She frowned only for one of the men to step forward, striking his chest with an armored fist. "On behalf of this batallion, Warmistress. Thank you for being the mother we never had!"
"THANK YOU MA'AM!" Came the resounding call behind him.
She sighed and shook her head, her expression remaining resolute, "Fifteen for disobeying a dismissal, idiots."
"YES MA'AM!" They bellowed and all dropped to begin fifteen minutes of pushups in armor.
A small smile trailed on her face as their noses were in the dirt. Fools. Her beloved fools. She didn't stand there and watch them work, they'd been dismissed. But they knew better than to stop until the alotted time was up. In her case, she made her way down the steps and back towards the main house, passing through the doors at a steady clip. Even in the halls of their family she had to maintain a certain presence, her stern gaze and thin expression met the face of any sub-member of the house that she came across. There were few who saw her heart, only her siblings, not even her parents. Her brother and sisters, whom she'd raised in the place of parents who cared nothing for them except as tools and chips to bargain with.
She strode down the hall, her heels clicking with each step, before she came to a stop at the door leading to the observation patio overlooking the training fields. Its where she found a bit of peace and quiet, nobody went there, really, except during the wargames. Though one could stand there and watch her train the men on a daily basis. She stepped up to the door and waved her hand over the panel, the door opening and stepped inside, unaware someone was waiting for her.
Sophia of House Marr
